Page 106 of The Saint

They were dead. Jonathan and Hailey had been doing good things in the world. Amelia didn’t know what those things were, but they were good enough that people wanted to stop them.

Esme used the broken dead bolt to secure the door as best as she could and closed the distance. “Are you sure you’re not hungry? Banana? Chicken?” She glanced about the room. “This place is disgusting. Anyone with half a heart would know even a light bulb would take care of the place.”

“Go away.”

Esme set the food on the nightstand. “Listen to me—”

“No.”

She laughed. “How do you think this will play out? I’ll just walk you to the parking lot? Find you an Uber?” She opened the bag and offered a Styrofoam container. After an awkward moment, she set the food down and crossed her arms and tapped the toe of her high heel as if reprimanding a toddler. “I need to know what Jonathan and Hailey told you that night.”

Amelia moved to the far side of the bed. She was cornered. “Even if they did tell me something, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“They”—Esme thumbed over her shoulder—“will kill you if you don’t help. You understand that?”

Fear percolated in her guts.

“It will hurt,” Esme continued coolly. “And I’m supposed to be the one who makes it excruciating. Do you get that?”

“I don’t know anything.”

“They’re willing to do whatever it takes to get what they need. Tell me what Jonathan and Hailey told you that night.”

“Nothing.”

Esme scowled. “I really don’t want this to happen. Is there a light bulb that can go off in that brain of yours? Or are you just a half-hearted excuse for your sister?”

Something in Esme’s expression was different from the two other times they’d met. She couldn’t place it but couldn’t let it goeither. That wasn’t even the way she spoke. Maybe the cadence was wrong. Something was off. “Please let me leave. You don’t want to do this.”

“You’re right.” She placed her hands on her hips. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The hospital released Camden the next day. The CIA had offered another safe house. Camden declined with a string of indignant obscenities that made his counterpart smirk. Beth had even offered him another vehicle, but he wanted nothing that came from outside Titan.

Shah arranged for a vehicle and a cell phone. Camden found the car in a designated location and pulled himself into the front seat. His body ached like someone had used his sternum to stir up hot coals.

He didn’t know where he was going and didn’t have a plan. Shah and Amanda suggested Titan’s US headquarters, but Parker hadn’t come up with new information to work on. At least, that was the line everyone continued to feed him.

After running a series of red lights and making U-turns, Camden decided no tail was following him. He pulled onto the highway. His first order of business was to visit Esme. He pulled up to the vacant-looking warehouse and parked next to her Mercedes.

The entrance was locked. He scoured the building for doors. Each was locked. Some were chained. How couldn’t this place have security cameras? He returned to the main entrance, pulled out his wallet, and withdrew a set of lockpick keys. The tumblers were complicated, but alone with the sun shining, he had nothing but time.

The last tumbler fell, and he let himself inside. The hall was cold and dark.

“Esme?” Camden wove through the familiar corridor. “We need to talk.” He found her office with the slip of light showing under the door and banged on it. “Esme, open up.”

The door opened, and unfazed, she looked at him as though he were a petulant child. “I do business by appointment.”

“I want to know who the men were on your guest list.”

“I don’t—”

“Tell me.”

“Or what? You’ll yell at me? Hit me? Kill me?” She smiled sweetly. “I’m not easy to take down.”

“Who are they?”

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